


Sailing Away

by 17daysgreys



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Motherhood, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-03-08 22:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18904225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/17daysgreys/pseuds/17daysgreys
Summary: Arya sails west of Westeros, but gets an unexpected visitor while on her journey. Now when she comes back to Westeros for her family, she is greeted by a certain Lord of Storms End who is none too happy with the secret she kept.





	1. A Wolf's Journey

            Gendry:

 

 

It has been five years since he had last seen Arya Stark. She had pulled him aside after the council meeting where they elected Bran King of the Six Kingdoms.

_“My lord,” she greeted, twirling her dagger around in her hands._

_“My lady,” he smirked._

_“Don’t call me that,” she smacked his shoulder._

_“As milady commands.”_

_“You look good,” she began, “The title, it suits you. You look like what I had always imagined Robert looked like, from the stories my father used to tell.”_

_Gendry groaned, “I don’t want to be my father, he was a drunk who whored his way around Westeros.”_

_“He was also a man in love who fought bravely and saved the Seven Kingdoms from Targaryen rule,” she rebutted._

_“You know I love you,” he interrupted._

_“I know.”_

_“Then why can’t we go to Storm’s End. I don’t want you to be a proper lady, that wasn’t what I meant. I just want to be with you, Arya, to hold you in my arms at night, spar with you, have someone there who I can trust who I know is leading me in the right direction. I’m scared to be their lord.”_

_She cuts him off with a kiss, “I can’t, not after all I’ve seen. Westeros has too many dark memories for me now, I’m sailing west.”_

_“West?”_

_“Where the maps end.”_

_“You’ll die.”_

_“The world is round and I have a crew of the best sailors from around planetos.”_

_“Arya, please don’t, go back to Winterfell, be there for Sansa’s coronation.”_

_She sighed, “The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. I’ll never be away, Bran can always find me and he,” she hesitated, “He told me I’ll come back. He doesn’t know when or how or why, but this journey isn’t a death sentence.”_

_“When you do come back, will you come back to me?”_

_“You’ll have a lady by then, probably a babe or two. I can’t ask you to wait for me.”_

_“You’re not asking, I’m offering.”_

_“Maybe we’ll meet again, Gendry,” she kissed him one last time, “For I would love nothing more than to be your forest lass.”_

_“I love you Arya,” he drank in her scent as she turned to get on the boat, nay giving him a second glance as it headed out of King’s Landing port and into the unknown._

“Lad?” Ser Daavos knocked on the door to his chambers.

 _Dreaming about her again_ he thought. It had been years, but the she-wolf, slayer of the Night King, assassin that is Arya Stark never strayed far from his mind. He wondered where she was, if she’d discovered what was west of Westeros. If the seas didn’t kill her, did the natives of the lands she found, did her crew?

“There’s a raven from Winterfell.”

He jumped out of bed at lightning speed and opened the door, barely grabbing a tunic to put on, “The letter?”

Daavos handed him the letter, “Here son.”

_Dear Gendry Baratheon,_

_I hope this letter finds you well and that your time in the Stormlands has brought peace and prosperity. I’ve heard from some of the minor lords that your work in the forge has made vast improvements to the Stormlands. We fought together once and it has been some time since we’ve seen each other, but as good faith from the North I would like to invite you to my upcoming nuptials to Brynden Blackwood. The wedding is in two moon’s turns._

_Sincerely,_

_Sansa Stark_

_Queen in the North_

He breathed in deeply, _Winterfell, he might see her again._  

“Ser Daavos,” Gendry called down the hall, “Ready the ship, we’re going to Winterfell.”

 

* * *

 

The day she left Westeros, Arya was filled with a sense of adventure and pride. She was going to be like Nymeria, the warrior queen, who discovered Dorne and created a whole new life for her people. Arya had wanted nothing more than to return north as a child, but after all the destruction she had seen at her home, she couldn’t go back there. Not when its halls would be empty and destroyed. She had craved the Winterfell she grew up with, when she decided to head North and not kill Cersei. But that Winterfell was father, mother, Robb, Jon, Sansa, Bran, Rickon, and Theon. It was a place filled with laughter and joy, not once of sorrow and death.

Worst of all, she had found some hope in Gendry, and they laid together before the Long Night and one time after Jon was sentenced to the Wall again because she needed to grieve and she couldn’t let her family see her. She knew Jon’s sentence was just, but that didn’t make it fair. It ripped her apart inside to leave him, to tell him she couldn’t be his Lady. Maybe in a few years, she’d be rid of all the pain and all the fear, but for now, she needed to go.

A few weeks into her journey, Arya had felt sick. She attributed it to sea-sickness, but soon her breasts felt tender. She had hired a maester for the journey, maester Tyros.

“My lady,” he greeted, “You’ve been sick for weeks, you say?”

“Yes,” she agreed, “And extremely fatigued.”

“How long has it been since your last moon blood?” He asked, gently touching her firm stomach.

Her face went blank, “Two moons ago.”

“My lady.” She didn’t need to hear him say it, she was pregnant and on a ship heading to only the gods know where.

They reached land six moons later, much to her disappointment what’s West of Westeros is just Essos with a few islands scattered in between. On a cold, stormy night on the beaches of the most eastern shores of Essos, Arya Stark gave birth to her daughter, Cassandra Snow. A babe with black hair and blue eyes, who looked the spitting image of her father. That night, was the first night Arya Stark had wept in years.

 

* * *

 

Sansa walked the corridors of Winterfell, finally feeling successful with the repairs. She loved being the Queen in the North, supporting her people, and gaining them the independence they rightfully fought for and deserved. She had feared she would never find love, for she was broken and beaten and she doubted she could even have children, but then Brynden Blackwood came into her life asking about a trade for lumber.

“Do you think she’ll be here?” She asked her younger brother, Bran, who had come from King’s Landing. He had visited frequently, as often as he could, but she understood his duty lied in the South. He had reacquainted himself with Meera Reed and although the two had no immediate plans to get married, there was no signs of the Reed girl leaving his side anytime soon.

“She will return,” he said coolly.

“I know,” she rubbed her temples, “But when?”

“Before evening fall.”

Sansa’s mouth dropped, “How did she know to come?”

“I’ve sent her ravens,” he explains, “I can see where she is. She’s been to Asshai, that’s what’s West of Westeros.”

“You couldn’t have told her that?” Sansa huffed.

“I can only see what the Weirwoods allow, I knew she’d be safe, I choose to look for that.”

“Or,” she scolded, “You could have looked to see if there really was anything West of Westeros and gotten her off the adventure kick.”

“No,” he argued, “She needed to go. She was too broken, she had seen too much. But she found exactly what she needed on her journey.”

 

* * *

 

Winterfell was just in sight, she and her crew had sailed in from White Harbor after coming from Essos.

“Mama,” the little girl who was sitting in front of her on her horse, “Are we almost there?”

“Yes sweetling.”

“Who goes there?” A guard asked.

“Arya Stark.”

“Raise the gates, the princess is home.”

Sansa rushed to the main courtyard after hearing from one of her advisors that a woman, who claimed she was Arya Stark had arrived. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw her sister, her hair was longer in a braid flowing down her back. Her skin was tanned from the sun. She had a few more scars on her face, that she could see, but none that hindered her beauty. She wore breeches and dark boots, with a fur top she likely picked up in the North. But what shocked Sansa the most was the girl perched up on Arya’s side.

“Arya,” Sansa breathed.

“Your grace,” Arya curtseyed.

“Who’s this?” Sansa asked, as her bethroed came and approached them.

“This is Cassandra Snow, my daughter. She was born the day we hit land.”

“She’s beautiful,” Sansa took in the sleeping girl’s form, “Who’s her father? Someone from the crew?”

“No,” Arya responded, “He’s someone I lost long ago.”

At that, Sansa decided to not press anymore and led her sister into Winterfell. All the Starks were home at last, maybe if the gods were good Jon would be able to be here too.

 

* * *

 

Arya and Cassandra settled into life at Winterfell quite easily. Cassandra played with the servant’s children, all of whom were incredibly envious that she had grown up sailing around the world with her mother.

“Morning,” Sansa greeted Arya in her solar as they ate breakfast.

“Morning, Aunt Sansa,” Cassandra called.

“Good morning, little-wolf,” she smiled as she let the girl run and hug her.

“You’re really good with her,” Arya smiled, “Pretty soon, I’m sure she’ll be asking for you to braid her hair. And beg me not to leave Winterfell ever.”

Cassandra looked giddy at her mother, “Could she really?”

“Gods,” Arya sighed.

“I would love to,” Sansa smiled.

“You know,” Sansa said, “You can stay here. I could give you Bear Island, you always have a home in the North.”

“Your grace,” a guard interrupted, “Lord Baratheon’s party is here.”

Arya’s face fell and a sudden sense of fear gripped her stomach.

“Thank you, I’ll see to him right away, Arya would you like to come? You and Lord Baratheon were friends once, right?”

Before she could answer, her daughter flung a few peas at Brynden’s head, causing him to roar in laughter, but Arya to seethe with embarrassment, “Cassandra!” She called.

“I’ll see to him later, Sansa,” Arya said.

 

* * *

 

“Lord Baratheon,” Sansa greeted.

“Your grace,” He bowed.

“I trust your journey was safe?”

“It was, your grace.”

Then all of a sudden, they were interrupted by the sound of ramboncous laughter of Cassandra being carried on Brynden’s back as he ran around Winterfell’s courtyard.

“I’m next,” some of the servant kids cried.

“No, I’m next.”

Then a woman appeared from the shadows and the little girl ran into her arms, “There’s plenty of time for you all to get a turn with Lord Brynden,” she smiled and Gendry could feel his heart stop beating. Arya Stark had returned.  

 


	2. GENDRY FINDS OUT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gendry finds out about Cassandra

The past five years at storms end had been lonely, to say the least. Sure his days were filled with lordly lessons like reading and sums, as well as audiences with people from the Stormlands. They were the best part, he had even formed a few friendships with some of his younger bannermen. However, as much as he enjoyed sparing with Harold Connington, it just wasn’t the same as sparing with Arya. They only spared once and it was like a heat had been lit under him that he’d never felt before. The elegance in her movements that were laced with such ferocity made him fall in love with her even more. 

 

Now hes standing in Winterfell’s courtyard, a place he never thought he’d be back to. He had maintained a friendship with Sansa Stark, via raven, but he had always assumed she kept a distance due to his relationship with Arya. So, when he got her invitation for her wedding he was shocked but a little part of him hoped that she would come home. She wouldn’t miss her sisters wedding, would she?  _She missed her coronation._

 

Queen Sansa’s greeting was polite and prompt but even she couldn’t help but grimace at the shouts. 

 

“I’m sorry, Lord Baratheon,” she smiled, “it seems that he’s playing horse with the children again.”

 

”it’s quite alright, the children are just as loud, if not louder at Storms End.”

then his attention was called towards the children again when their shouts got even louder. And then a young girl, couldn’t be more than five, with hair as black as the night ran into the arms of the woman. He couldn’t hear what she said but he distinctly heard the girl yell “mama!”

 

The woman turned around and his breath stopped. It was Arya. Her skin was tanner and her hair was longer than he’d ever seen it. He didn’t know what his feet were doing, but before he knew it he was halfway across the courtyard- being guided by love or stupidity he didn’t know. 

 

 _Wait did_ she _say mama?_

__**__** ********

* * *

* * *

 

_”Cass, are you having fun with uncle Bryden?”_

_”Yes!” She squealed._

 

_Gendry watched them for a few seconds then he realized that this was Arya’s daughter._

 

_“Arya?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did this on mobile! I’m sorry I’ll add another chapter tomrorow!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry talk

Cassandra was smiling and laughing and full of joy, Arya couldn’t help but smile at her daughter. But then, she heard a voice she hadn’t thought of fully in years. Gendry’s.

“Arya,” he had said, the words leaving his lips masked in shock and glee.

“Gendry,” she responded slowly.

He was observing her and Cass, looking them up and down like a good book.

“Who is that?” The little girl asked.

“He’s,” Arya didn’t know what to say, “He’s an old friend.”

“He looks like me,” she muttered into Arya’s chest.

“Aye, he does.”

“Is she mine?” He asked quietly.

“Yes.”

Gendry balled his hands into fists and approached Arya closer, “I think we need to talk.”

Arya looked at Brynden who could see the angry bull and the scared she-wolf, “Can you take her for a bit?”

“Sure,” he answered.

Arya and Gendry walked to the forge, a place the both of them knew they couldn’t lie in.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Gendry roared, “You should have sent a raven as soon as you knew. How could you have been so selfish?”

She let him yell, what was there for her to say?

“You kept my daughter from me for years. What did I do to you to deserve that? I asked you to marry me and this is how you punish me? Does she even know I’m her father?”

Arya didn’t respond, she only looked at the ground, making patterns in the dirt with her feet.

“Arya,” he pried, “Answer me, I deserve that much.”

“She’s all I have,” her voice came out in a whisper, “After King’s Landing, after everything I wanted nothing more than to forget Westeros, then when I was on that damned boat I was told I was with child.”

“And it didn’t occur to you, not once that you should have turned around and told me?”

“And what would that have done?” She spat back. “I told you no. I told you I didn’t want to be a lady.”

“I never wanted you to be a lady,” he roared, “I wanted you to be with me.”

“Well you had a funny way of showing it.”

“Are you serious, right now, Arya?”

The way he said her name made her insides twist and soar with arousal and regret, “Do you want to take her?” Her voice was scared and weak.

“No,” he hesitated, “No I don’t, but I do want to know her. She’s my daughter.”

“No,” she corrected, “She’s mine. I gave birth to her, I raised her on my own, she’s mine.”

“So, when this is all over, you’re going to sail back west with her and none of us will be the wiser? I never took you for being cruel.”

“She’s all that I have.”

“I could have been that too,” he said, “I would have been at your side if you would have let me. All I wanted was a family, Arya, but I wanted you as my family more.”

“I don’t want her to play the game. I want her to be free and safe and happy, and she is out at sea with me.”

“You can’t keep her from me.”

“I can,” she hesitated, “And I will if it means keeping her safe.”

“I’m not going to hurt her.”

“I never said you would, but you’re a lord now. Whether you intend to hurt her or not, she will be a pawn in the game.”

Gendry walked closer to Arya so their noses were almost touching, “If you think that low of me, then I’ll forget what I saw and I’ll go and marry some other lady. There’s plenty of them in the Stormlands for me. But you and I both know you’re lying to the both of us, you’re not protecting her, you’re only scared.”

“I’m not scared of anything,” she bit back.

He kissed her then causing her shoulders to shrug up and her senses to be filled with confusion, “Really? Because I think you’re scared of feeling. Scared of having a home. Scared of someone who loves you.”

She pulled away from him, “You can’t love me. You don’t know me.”

“And who’s fault is that? You didn’t tell me anything? You demanded I make you a weapon then you laid with me, I asked you to be my wife and you said no. I know nothing of what you went through, where your scars came from, because you wouldn’t tell me.”

“Someone stabbed me,” she explained.

His blue eyes radiated shock.

“I was supposed to kill and actress and I refused, this was my punishment.”

“Where were you?”

“I- I can’t tell you.”

“Damnit, Arya. Of all of the people in your life, do you think I am the one to judge you?”

“No,” she cried, “But if you knew all of the terrible things I have done, I don’t think you’d look at me the same.”

“I love you,” he whispered, “I always have, despite what you may think.”

“You could never love the monster I became.”

“Arya,” he tried.

“I’m sorry, Lord Baratheon. I hope your stay at Winterfell is comfortable and that your journey to Storm’s End is safe.”

“Don’t.”

She turned to leave before he grabbed her shoulder, “What’s her name?”

Arya bit her lip, she could give him that, “Cassandra.”

“Baratheon?”

“You do know your history,” she smiled, slightly.

“I do know some things.”

“Stupid.”

“I want to know her,” he paused, “And I want to know you. When you’re ready to tell me your story I will listen to it with open ears. I will never not love you because of what you had to do to survive.”

She kissed him softly, “I know that, Gendry. But I can’t pain you with the story of my past. It wouldn’t be fair to you. Go and find a lady wife who will love you and birth you legitimate heirs and forget about us. I’ll tell her about you someday, she’ll know her father protected me and kept me safe and was a good man. A noble man. More than most women could ever ask for.”

“Please,” he tried, “Please let me in.”

“I can’t.”

“Arya,” he called, but she had already run away from the forge.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you want to see?


	4. Chapter 4

Arya ran from the forge as fast as her feet would take her. Even though she had left the House of Black and White years ago, some of her training still lingered, be that with her ability to sneak up on people or not show her true emotions. But when she was around him, her walls caved in and she could no longer be no one, she was Arya Stark. Daughter of the deemed traitor Eddard Stark whose head was taken on the steps of the Sept of Baelor. Sister to Robb Stark, King in the North before he was murdered by the Frey’s at a wedding. Bringer of the Dawn because she managed to sneak up behind the Night’s King and stab him in the chest. She’d faced so much in her life, all she wanted was to be free.

“Woah, there little wolf,” a familiar voice said as she reamed into him.

She looked up, “Jon?”

She hadn’t seen him in years, he looked pretty much the same despite a few more wrinkles around his eyes.

“Arya?” He asked, taking her face gently in his hands, wiping a tear with his black leather glove.

“I-,” she breathed heavily, panting, “I can’t breathe.”

He engulfed her into a hug, “Hush, you’re safe. You’re safe Arya, nothing, no one is going to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew me,” she cried.

“I do know you, you’re my little sister. Strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

All those years ago when they were battling for their lives she had never had the chance to tell him where she’d been or who’d she’d been with. She had been petrified that he wouldn’t look at her as the little sister who’s hair he would ruffle or who he had commissioned Needle for. He’d instead look at her as a monster, a person void of honor.

“I killed the Frey’s,” she said coldly, “I started off by killing Walder Frey’s eldest sons then I baked them in a pie and fed them to him,” the words were flowing like a river, “His face was pure shock when I told him, then I slit his throat. I made sure he knew it was me, that I was a Stark. I then took his face and poisoned the rest of his house.”

Jon didn’t say a word, he just held Arya in his arms and listened to her weep.

“I killed a deserter of the Night’s Watch in Braavos.”

“What were you doing in Braavos?” He asked.

“I was training,” she breathed deeply, “On my travels I met a man who gave me a coin. It bought me passage to the free city of Braaovs, I had wanted to get to you,” she cried desperately now, “If I had gotten to you none of this would have happened.”

“What wouldn’t have happened?”

“I wouldn’t have sold my soul to the devil,” she bit her lip, “They beat me every day, but they also trained me. Harder than I’ve ever experienced. They blinded me, made me deaf, made me mute, made me unable to use my limbs. They stabbed me and beat me and tortured me, and I didn’t care. I would have done it all over again, just so I could cross those names off of my bloody list.”

“Who, Arya?” His voice was laced with concern, “Who did this to you?”

“The Faceless Men.”

Jon gasped, he had heard the stories of them. How they could change faces and only killed when paid an incredibly high price. Their skills were not to be messed with.

“You’re one of them?”

“I was.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

He looked at her with pity, not disgust, but she didn’t know if this was worse, “Because I never wanted you to look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m broken.”

“Arya,” he tried, “We all did what we had to do in order to survive. I killed the Queen, the woman I loved.”

“She burned down an entire city,” Arya argued, “I killed innocents for the sake of coin. Jealously drove people, hate, desire, if their coin purses could pay for it no one hesitated to take out their enemies.”

“You’re not evil.”

“Am I not? I kept Gendry’s child from him for four years all because the stupid bull asked me to marry him the night of our celebration feast. Am I not selfish that I took away his happiness, his chance at a family because I was too afraid to wear a dress and do real needlework again?”

“You have a child?”

“Aye,” she finally met his eyes, “I do, she’s four, her name is Cassandra.”

“A Baratheon name.”

“Aye.”

“I’d think if you were as selfish as you think you are, you wouldn’t have named her after her father’s family. Maybe you weren’t ready to be a Lady then, but you still cared.”

“He’ll never look at me the same, not after what I did to him, what I’ve done to so many people.”

“I’d think he’s more forgiving than you give him credit for,” Jon reasoned.

“Do I deserve it though?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May not be 5 chapters


	5. Godswood

It’d been a day since he’d seen Arya, he had spotted their daughter a few times playing in the yard. She was his exact image, how no one figured it out by now astonished him.

“You know,” a voice approached from behind, “I should geld you for dishonoring my little sister.”

“Jon,” Gendry greeted, “It’s not what you think. It was one time. Uh,” he ran his fingers through his hair nervously, “We were friends before. I met her in King’s Landing, after your father, your uncle,” he corrected, “and we traveled together.”

“I know,” Jon said, “She told me.”

“You’ve seen her?” His eyes lit up.

“Aye.”

“Is she?” He wanted to ask a million questions, he wanted to run to her and hold her and tell her that he wasn’t angry.

“Did she ever tell you anything about where she was after the two of you were separated?”

“No,” he sighed, “I know of some scars and that’s it. Never told me where they were from.”

“She was tortured,” Jon explained, “It took her a long time to find Arya Stark again. She found it, in her daughter, and her pack is everything to her.”

“I would never take her pack away.”

“You might not, but you no longer speak for just yourself. You’re a Baratheon.”

“And she’s a Stark.”

“Arya hasn’t really been a Stark, not a proper one anyways,” Jon chuckled, “since our father’s death. She holds the name dear and will fight to the death for her family, but even before my father went south I had an inkling that one day we’d all wake up and Arya would be gone. She never wanted to be a lady.”

“She told me she wanted to travel the world or to become a knight,” Gendry added.

“Well she’s gotten her wish,” Jon hummed, “But maybe you should tell her that she can have a family and travel the world, or that maybe being the lady of Storm’s End will not be a death sentence. She’s in the Godswood.”

Gendry sprinted, faster than he had beyond the wall, to the Godswood where he found her sitting on a stone, polishing needle.

He tried to approach quietly, but couldn’t help the crunching of the leaves under his feet.

“You’re too loud,” she groaned.

“Hello to you, too.”

“What do you want, Gendry?”

“To talk.”

“We already talked.”

“No,” he argued, “I’d say we both said our pieces but didn’t listen. And we never came to a conclusion.”

“There is nothing to say. She’s my daughter, she’s not going south.”

“What if I come north?”

Her eyes widened, “You’re a liege lord, Gendry, you can’t give that up.”

“I never wanted it in the first place, I only wanted you.”

“You’re stupid.”

“May be so, but I know I’m not stupid when it comes to you. I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember. You were my best friend, and even if you can’t be more than friends with me, I need you to be in my life, Arya.”

The way he said her name made chills run down her spine.

“Jon told me a bit about when you were away,” he looked into her eyes, she could see the pain behind his words, “Please, let me in.”

“Braavos,” the words left her lips like a prayer.

“Jaquen,” he gasped, “You went with him?” He roared.

“I had nothing left,” she argued, “My mother and brother murdered, my aunt was dead, Sansa was missing, you left. I wanted to take a ship to White Harbor, but there was only one ship in the Saltpans and it was going to Braavos.”

“We were so close,” he spoke softly, but she still heard him.

“I found the House of Black and White and I began my training to be a faceless man.”

He had read a bit about the ruthless guild of assassins, hardly believing his ears that she was one of them.

“They beat me, blinded me, tortured me. I was so close to becoming no one, but only the thought of Jon and needle kept me from losing Arya Stark entirely. For years I couldn’t remember the way Sansa’s voice sounded, my father’s face,” she breathed in deeply, “Is still a mystery to me, my mother’s singing is a distant memory. For a time, I wasn’t even sure what my own face looked like. Then it all clicked to me, that I was murdering for pay, and I was supposed to kill an actress and you know the rest.”

He was shocked.

“I sailed back to Westeros and I slaughtered the Frey’s, killed Baelish, would’ve killed Cersei too if I had been given the chance. I was consumed with so much hate and my life, it had been formed on revenge. I couldn’t stay here, or with you.”

“Arya,” he cupped her cheek with his hand, wiping a tear with his thumb.

“I should have come back as soon as I knew,” she admitted, “But I was scared. Scared you’d hate me for leaving, scared you’d never want us, scared you’d already moved on. So I stayed away, it was easier.”

“Why did you come back?”

“I brought some men to my bed,” she admitted, trying to avoid his eye as she knew he’d be angry, “But nothing ever felt right. No one else ever felt like home. I tried to move on and create a new life West of Westeros, and I did, in a way. But then I remembered the snows in Winterfell and how much I missed them and how much I loved them as a little girl. Cassandra should know them as well.”

“I’m glad you came back,” he said, “I’ve spent the past five years missing you terribly.”

“I missed you too.”

“Let me stay,” he argued again, “I want to know our daughter, and I want to see the snow too.”

She smiled down at her bull, and pulled him into a kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> may not be done

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a short-fic- let me know if you like the concept. I can go back and edit this chapter to make the dialogue longer. Also, I want to say how upset I am with the ending. I wanted one ship to be happy, but alas we just got a snapshot of where they left off but there's still hope. Sansa will get married and fill Winterfell with lots of wolf pups, Arya will find her way home and eventually to Gendry, Jon will find love beyond the wall for the third time. It'll all be good, the Starks are still alive. But I just feel like I was missing a ten page epilogue of like where are they now? Are they happy? I really hope they are.


End file.
